


Just as He Was

by poetofstarlight



Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Todd's pov, anderperry, it's just a bit more noted because it's his POV, todd has a bit of a stutter, which isn't anything new i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:27:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25421620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetofstarlight/pseuds/poetofstarlight
Summary: Neil thinks Todd's questionable poetry is brilliant, Cameron is annoying, and Charlie is definitely aware of what's going on even though Todd tries to convince himself otherwise. Basically the famous "no" scene rewritten to end a little differently.
Relationships: Charlie Dalton & Neil Perry, Todd Anderson & Charlie Dalton & Neil Perry, Todd Anderson/Neil Perry
Comments: 4
Kudos: 181





	Just as He Was

**Author's Note:**

> this fic takes place right after Mr. Keating assigns the class poetry to write; some of the dialogue is not mine but comes from the movie
> 
> i wrote this a while back to cheer myself up, and thought i would share. :)

_We are dreaming of a new day when a new day isn’t coming_  
_We are waiting for a battle when were are already fighting_  
_We are dreaming of yesterday when yesterday is gone_  
_We are waiting for salvation when salvation will never come_

Todd sighed, scribbling out the last line in frustration. He wasn’t sure why he was even trying so hard with Keating’s poetry assignment when he already knew nothing he wrote would turn out well. For Todd, writing was just like talking—all the words were there, somewhere, in his mind, but he could never quite place them together right.

Exasperated, he went to erase his work, but before he could the door to his dorm opened and Neil entered, already laughing. He ran over to Todd and dropped a flyer in his lap, grinning ear to ear.

“I found it!” Neil announced.

“Found what?” Todd smiled shyly, turning the paper over, his sad attempt at poetry forgotten.

“What I wanna do right now—what’s really, really inside of me!” Neil declared, kneeling beside Todd’s bed.

“A Midsummer Night’s Dream?” Todd read off the flyer in mild befuddlement. “Wha—what is that?”

“It’s a play, Toddy!” Neil laughed.

Todd blushed. He knew it was a play, he just hadn’t been able to get the right question out. “I—I know that! I just—what does it have to do with you?”

“They’re putting it on at Henley Hall,” Neil explained earnestly. Then he tapped the flyer. “Open tryouts! Open tryouts!”

“Yeah, so…?” Todd asked, grinning despite himself at Neil’s contagious enthusiasm. So far Neil hadn’t explained anything that wasn’t already on the flyer.

“So?!” Neil beamed, standing up. “I’m gonna act. Ohh! Yes! Yes!”

Todd chuckled as Neil grabbed a blanket off his own bed and pulled it around himself, jumping about their room in his excitement. “I’m gonna be an actor—ever since I can remember I wanted to try this! I even tried to go to Summer Stock auditions last year but of course my father wouldn’t let me. For the first time in my whole life, I know what I want to do.”

Neil grabbed Todd’s discarded homework and jumped up on the Todd's bed, throwing the papers and causing them to flutter down on the other boy. “And for the first time I’m gonna do it! Whether my father wants me to or not! CARPE DIEM!!!”

He laughed joyfully, but Todd wasn’t so quick to match his friend’s excitement. “Neil, Neil—hold on. How are you gonna be in a play if your father won’t let you?”

Neil paused for a second, considering, but his new smile returned easily to his face. He jumped off Todd’s bed and went to the window. “First, I gotta get the part. Then I can worry about that.”

“Yeah, but won’t he kill you when he finds out you went to an audition and didn’t even tell him—“

“No, no no,” Neil interrupted, shaking his head. “No, as far as I’m concerned he won’t have to know about any of this.”

Todd shook his head, confused. “What—that’s impossible—“

“Bullshit, nothing’s impossible,” Neil interrupted again. He had a fiery look in his eyes Todd couldn’t remember ever seeing there before.

“Well, why don’t you just call him and ask him, and maybe he’ll say yes?” Todd said, though even as the words escaped his mouth he knew they were ridiculous.

“Hah! That’s a laugh,” Neil said, his former excitement clearly dissipating. He threw the blanket off himself agitatedly. “If I don’t ask him at least I won’t be disobeying him.”

“Yeah, but if he said no—“

“Jesus, Todd, who’s side are you on?!” Neil shouted, turning from the window and causing Todd to startle.

Todd paused, staring up at his friend and, as usual, was at a loss for words. Blushing, he looked away. Neil grabbed the flyer back from him and went to the window again, sitting atop the radiator.

“I mean, I haven’t even gotten the part yet,” he said, sounding both hurt and regretful. “Can I even enjoy the idea for a little while?”

Todd nodded, glancing away and returning to his fruitless poem.

“You’re coming to the meeting this afternoon,” Neil said—half question, half statement. Todd had discovered that Neil did that a lot: said things as if Todd had a choice, when really Neil had already decided for him.

“I don’t know,” Todd answered almost automatically. He did want to go; he liked going, and he liked that Neil wanted him to go, but he didn’t feel like he belonged in a poetry club, or any sort of club at that, especially after attempting to do this poetry assignment for Keating. “Maybe.”

“Nothing Mr. Keating has to say means shit to you, does it, Todd?” Neil demanded, standing up again and leaning against the wall over Todd’s bed, forcing the other boy to have to look up at him again.

Todd paused. “Wha—what is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re in the club!” Neil exclaimed. “Being in the club means…means being stirred up by things. You look about as stirred up as a cesspool.”

Todd’s heart skipped a beat. “You want me out?”

“No!” Neil answered immediately. “No! I want you in! But being in means you gotta do something, not just say you’re in.”

Todd could feel his chest tighten anxiously at Neil’s words. He knew he didn’t belong in the Dead Poets Society, even though he wished he did. But the obvious truth was that he didn’t belong anywhere. He had hoped that Neil hadn’t realized this, but clearly he had. “Listen, Neil, I—I mean I appreciate this concern but I…I’m not like you alright? I mean, you—“ Todd paused, trying to formulate the words he thought he could see in his mind’s eye. “You—you say things and people listen, I—I—I’m not like that.”

“Don’t you think you could be?” Neil said, insistent as always.

“No, I—“ Todd paused, but shook away the thought before he could consider it. “I—I don’t know, but that’s not the point! The—the point is that there’s nothing you can do about it. So you can just butt out. I can take care of myself just fine, alright?”

He looked down at his notebook, expecting Neil to leave him be, but he should’ve known his roommate would persist.

“No,” Neil said.

Todd glanced up again. “What d’you mean, ‘no’?”

A grin crept back into Neil’s face. He shrugged playfully. “No.” Then he threw down the flyer and grabbed Todd’s notebook, running to his own bed and jumping on top.

“Gimme—Neil, Neil! Neil, give that back!” Todd exclaimed, chasing after his roommate, who was about to read the very awful, very terrible, very embarrassing poetry that he definitely was never going to show anyone, let alone read aloud in Mr. Keating’s class.

“ _‘We’re dreaming of a’_ —oh, this is poetry!” Neil shouted in delight, running in a circle back to Todd’s bed and holding the notebook just out of the other boy’s reach as Todd chased after him. “I’m being chased by Walt Whitman!”

Todd laughed despite himself and caught up to Neil, pushing him and attempting to knock the notebook out of his hand.

“Okay, okay!” Neil laughed, slowing down. Todd reached out for the notebook once and for all, but just as he was about to get it back their door swung open.

“What are you guys _doing_?” Cameron demanded, trig workbook in his hand. “I’m trying to—“

Todd used the opportunity of Neil’s momentary distraction to snatch his notebook back. Neil laughed gleefully at the sight of Cameron and grabbed the trig book from him on his way around the circle he and Todd were still running in, causing Cameron to shout indignantly.

“Hey, gimme the—Neil!” Cameron joined in their circular chase as Neil continued laughing. Todd laughed as well and chased after Cameron.

“Don’t be immature!” Cameron complained.

“Give it to me!” Charlie shouted at Neil, entering their room at the sound of all the ruckus. Neil obliged, tossing the trig workbook to Charlie, causing Cameron to race after it. Suddenly Charlie, Todd, and Neil were passing the trig book back and forth, Cameron running hopelessly between them. At some point, Todd’s notebook got mixed up in the mess again. He didn’t mind anymore, though—he couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed so carelessly.

“What is the meaning of all this noise!” an authoritative voice exclaimed, causing the four boys to pause, the 2 books falling from their grasps. Todd, who was standing on Neil’s bed, turned to see Mr. Nolan looking extremely bothered.

“I was just trying to get my book back, sir,” Cameron muttered, stooping down to pick his trig book from the floor. He smiled apologetically at Mr. Nolan and exited the room.

Mr. Nolan eyed the other three. “I expect you all have studying you should be doing as well?”

“Yes, Mr. Nolan,” the boys muttered and nodded.

“Good, then get to it quietly,” Mr. Nolan ordered. “Mr. Dalton, back to your room.”

Charlie nodded and exited the room, but Todd could tell he was resisting a fierce urge to roll his eyes. Mr. Nolan gave Todd and Neil one last stern glance before shutting the door behind himself and Charlie.

Todd and Neil stood there for a moment, before glancing at each other and erupting into laughter. Neil pushed at him jovially, causing Todd to retaliate, and suddenly they were in a lighthearted brawl, shoving each other and trying to trip each other up, until they landed on Neil’s bed, panting and laughing, Neil pinning Todd beneath him in triumph.

“Aha!” Neil exclaimed victoriously, spotting Todd’s notebook again, which had landed on his bed when Nolan had broken up their tormenting of Cameron. It was just above Todd’s head now, and Neil reached out to grab it with a smirk.

“No, Neil—“ Todd protested, trying to snatch the notebook back, but Neil just laughed and pinned both of Todd’s wrists above his head, trapping him so he couldn’t move.

“We are dreaming of a new day when a new day isn’t coming,” Neil began grinning and jokingly, but his tone became quieter and more serious as he continued. “We are waiting for a battle when were are already fighting / We are dreaming of yesterday when yesterday is gone / We are waiting for salvation when salvation will never come.”

Neil’s grip lessened, but Todd didn’t reach for the notebook. Instead he stared at Neil, whose own eyes were still on the notebook and the stupid verse Todd had written. Neil’s eyes traveled over the paper, and somehow that made Todd feel just as exposed as whenever Neil actually did look at him.

“We are waiting for salvation when salvation will never come,” Neil murmured again, and Todd couldn’t take his eyes off Neil’s lips as they formed the words.

“It’s…stupid,” Todd felt the statement escape his mouth in a whisper and immediately wished he’d stayed quiet, so he could continue watching Neil.

Neil turned to him. “No it’s not,” he said stubbornly. “It’s…”

But he trailed off, catching the intensity of his roommate's gaze, his own expression deepening. He let go of Todd’s wrists completely now, his arm traveling down to his cheek. Todd’s stomach fluttered as Neil traced a thumb across his lips. He couldn’t take his eyes off Neil’s face. Neil’s expression, Todd had discovered, always seemed to give away exactly what he was thinking, but right now, with his brow knitted and a certain soft but strong look in his eyes, it wasn’t clear to Todd what Neil was thinking. Or maybe it would have been, if he’d allowed himself to imagine…but he could only hold his breath, too afraid to move or say anything in case he caused Neil to pull away.

Then Neil finally met Todd’s gaze, his thumb ceasing to move. “Is this okay?” he asked nervously. Todd had never seen Neil act anything but confident.

Todd nodded, “Y—yes.”

He’d hardly forced the word from his mouth when Neil leaned forward, meeting Todd’s lips with his own. Todd’s breath caught in his mouth, but he kissed back, one hand traveling to rest atop Neil’s own, which was still pressed to his cheek. He reached with his other hand for the back of Neil’s head, pulling the other boy closer and letting his fingers become lost in Neil’s brown hair.

Just as he was thinking he might have to pull away for air, yet dreading the thought of it because he never wanted the softness of Neil’s lips to leave his own, a voice in the hall called out, “Deeead Poets! Neil! Todd!”

In a hasty movement, Neil pulled away and Todd pushed himself up. The door swung open and Charlie stood there smirking.

“What is it?” Neil asked, somewhat breathlessly.

Charlie raised an eyebrow, looking between the two of them. “We’re waiting for you two.”

“Oh! Right,” Neil said, jumping up. He cleared his throat “Right, the meeting.”

Charlie smirked again— _was that his usual smirk, or did he suspect something?_ Todd wondered anxiously. Then he shook the thought away. Why would he suspect anything?

“Coming, Todd?” Charlie asked as Neil started for the door.

“Uh, yeah, of—of course,” Todd said, standing up and following the other two.

“Todd’s a real Walt Whitman now,” Neil said as they walked down the hall, Charlie slightly ahead of he and Todd.

“Oh yeah?” Charlie grinned, turning to walk backwards so he could face them. “Are you gonna read something at the meeting?”

“N—no, no. Neil’s kidding,” Todd said, glancing at Neil, who smiled and mouthed _‘am not!’._ Todd blushed and looked down, hurrying after Charlie.


End file.
